The Labyrinth of Destiny

by Callie Kanno

The young queen’s thoughts became distant, as they always did when she immersed herself completely into a fight. Her movements became more fluid and her inhibitions disappeared. This was another reason why this technique was dangerous. It made her take risks that she would not normally consider.

  She was gaining the upper hand.

  Adesina continued to fight, completely absorbed in the moment. The rest of the battle only existed if it affected her conflict with the Shimat warrior; otherwise it faded to the faint background.

  A strange sensation penetrated her awareness.

  Ravi was confused…and concerned.

  Why? What was happening?

  It didn’t matter at the moment.

  Adesina drew her brows together in a fierce scowl, giving all of her attention to her opponent. Their swords clashed together in a quick series of attacks and counterattacks, each movement barely discernible from the others.

  The Shimat warrior was incredibly skilled, but she did not have the same focus as Adesina. She did not have the same level of pinpoint determination.

  Adesina also had the advantage of a flaming sword, which was—at the very least—distracting. She was not above using that distraction to her benefit.

  And as if those things were not enough to give Adesina the advantage, the Shimat suddenly shifted her gaze and froze in fear. Her distraction only lasted for a second, but it was more than enough time for Adesina to finish her off. The L’avan queen made it a clean death, ending her life with one decisive movement.

  Adesina then quickly turned to see what it was that had cost the Shimat her life.

  Ruon was approaching them at a hurried pace, with Sitara following close behind. They were still at a distance, but the Laithur’s form was easily recognized.

  That must have been the cause for Ravi’s confusion as well.

  Adesina was also confused and concerned. Why would Ruon venture into the middle of the battle?

  She shook her head and turned back to the fight. She would ask him when he got closer, but for now there was still much to do. K’eb and his soldiers were safely withdrawing, but she needed to continue to cover their movements.

  Adesina kicked Torith gently, and the horse leapt onward into the fray.

  There was a whisper of warning in the back of her mind, and the soft sound of the air being disturbed.

  Then the thick shaft of an arrow shot across the field. The point struck her in the neck.

  It almost seemed as though the world stopped.

  Adesina stared ahead in shock, her eyes barely registering the black form of a Shimat in the distance, holding a bow.

  Her fingers reached upward, tracing the arrow and feeling the gushing blood from the wound.

  It is fatal. The knowledge was in her mind immediately. I am going to die.

  Ravi’s mind enveloped hers, and he suddenly appeared by her side. He forced her to stay calm, even though her thoughts were racing.

  Adesina’s strength fled in an instant, and she felt herself falling to the ground from her saddle.

  She felt a pair of slender arms catch her and softly lower her. She looked up into Ruon’s black eyes and felt strangely comforted by his presence.

  He must have Seen her fall in battle, and he came to help her.

  As much as he hated humans, he had become her friend.

  Ma’eve, do not give up. There is still time to get you to a Healer.

  Ravi’s face was near hers, and his voice was strong in her mind. She wanted to speak, but she could not make any sound.

  Pain enveloped her, and her eyes clenched shut.

  Too much blood lost. She would not make it back in time.

  Do not give up.

  L’iam would be so worried. Adesina’s heart ached at the thought of what her husband would be feeling when he heard the news.

  Do not give up!

  Adesina felt herself slipping away into unconsciousness.

  Another voice entered into her mind, speaking in barely more than a whisper.

  Do not give up, my child. You still have much to do.

  Chapter Thirty-Two: Protection

  L’iam had been in the command tent when he heard the news that Adesina had fallen in battle. He’d dropped everything without another thought and sprinted toward the fortified gate of the encampment.

  He was vaguely aware of voices shouting at him, but he could not give them any of his attention. He had to get to his wife.

  L’iam arrived at the gate with only enough breath to ask the guards if they could see the queen coming.

  The foremost guard pointed to the nearest set of tents. “She was taken to the Healers, your Majesty.”

  A small portion of L’iam’s mind wondered how she had arrived so quickly, but he did not take the time to ask for an explanation. He set off running again, this time toward the area set aside for the healing of wounded soldiers.

  He didn’t need to ask for directions to Adesina’s tent. A small crowd of people stood just outside the opening. They must have only just arrived, because Healers were running to attend to the fallen queen.

  Ruon’s form was the most prominent, and L’iam could see that Adesina was cradled in his arms. She almost looked like a child as the Laithur held her to his body protectively.

  L’iam rushed to her side, reaching out to touch her hair. “Adesina! Adesina? Can you hear me?”

  “She is resting,” said Ruon in a voice that was tense with emotion. “She has lost a lot of blood.”

  “Bring her inside,” instructed one of the Healers.

  Ruon carried Adesina into the tent, followed closely by L’iam, Ravi, and Sitara. The tent was used for triage, and there were several pads that lined the walls. More than half of the pads were occupied by soldiers who had been recently wounded. The Healer indicated an empty pad, and Ruon set Adesina down with infinite gentleness.

  The Healer used her vyala to scan Adesina’s body, gathering information on what needed healing.

  L’iam found himself studying his wife with equal urgency.

  Her face was deathly pale and she seemed thinner than he remembered. She was covered with cuts and bruises, and there was a bloody bandage wrapped around her neck. Her breastplate and cape had been removed, leaving her in the simple clothing that she wore underneath. Her blouse was dirty and torn, and her pants and boots were splashed with mud.

  The Healer carefully pulled back the bandage on Adesina’s neck to reveal an arrow wound. It was still bleeding heavily, and the removal of the bandage was like releasing a river dam. The Healer gathered her strength and channeled it into her vyala, closing the wound on Adesina’s neck into an angry red scar.

  The Healer was clearly exhausted from her effort and sat back with a sigh. “She has lost so much blood,” she whispered. “I do not know if her body can recover, even with my healing.”

  “Are you saying she is…” L’iam couldn’t bring himself to speak the words.

  “She will not die,” Sitara asserted softly.

  “How do you know that?” asked L’iam with desperation in his voice.

  “She is Immortal,” answered Sitara, looking surprised by his reaction. “It would take much more than a mere arrow to destroy her body.”

  L’iam’s heart leapt with wild hope.

  “Immortals can be wounded under the right circumstances,” explained the Serraf, “but our bodies were designed to heal rapidly. An Immortal’s body must be mostly destroyed in order for us to ‘die,’ as you would say, and doing so is no small task. It takes a huge amount of vyala to destroy an Immortal’s body.”

  “Are you telling me that there was no need to heal her?” asked the Healer incredulously.

  Sitara smiled at the young woman. “Your sacrifice was not wasted. The queen will recover much faster than she would have otherwise. I would think that she will be back on her feet by tomorrow.”

  The Healer nodded and stood. “I will arrange for a private tent where she can rest.”

  L’iam f
elt strangely empty when his worry for Adesina’s life drained out of him. He looked at Ruon and suddenly felt that emptiness filling with anger. “Why did you not tell me that she would be wounded?” he asked accusingly.

  The Laithur was seated next to Adesina and barely spared him a glance. “I am not your personal oracle, L’avan King.”

  “You knew she was going to be hurt,” L’iam’s voice grew steadily louder, “so why did you not say something before you left to rescue her?”

  Ruon turned his small black eyes on the man standing over him. His tone was bordered on scorn. “I did not enter the battlefield to prevent Adesina from being injured. As Sitara explained, there would have been no point. She was not going to die from a wound such as this.”

  “Then why did you bother?” demanded the young king.

  “Because Cha-sak has ordered her to be captured at all costs, and the wound would have left her vulnerable to be taken by the Shimat.”

  L’iam’s face blanched at this revelation. “How long have you known this?”

  Ruon’s flat features twisted with condescension. “Any true military leader knows the value is depriving an enemy of leadership.”

  The L’avan shook his head. “No, you know that Cha-sak gave that order. How long ago did you have that vision?”

  “Cha-sak issued the order as soon as he knew that Adesina was the Threshold Child.”

  Adesina had told L’iam about her Dream with Cha-sak and how she had needed to create a mental barrier to protect herself. That had been quite a while ago, and L’iam felt his face flush as his anger grew.

  “You should have warned us,” L’iam said in a low voice.

  “Warned you that there was danger in going up against a demon such as Cha-sak?” sniffed Ruon in derision. “I would think that an obvious fact.”

  “I could have done more to keep her safe,” snapped L’iam.

  Ruon shook his head. “Adesina has all possible protections short of hiding her away.”

  “Such as what?”

  Ruon gave L’iam a measured look. “She has me, does she not? Have I not done a great deal to keep her safe?”

  That brought L’iam’s anger to a halt. He looked at the Laithur as he sat protectively next to the sleeping Adesina, and an unexpected realization came to him.

  Ruon only joined the battle if Adesina was directly involved.

  The Laithur often stood aloof, disdaining to become a part of the “human struggle” with Cha-sak, but he never refused to help if Adesina truly needed it.

  “You have protected her,” admitted L’iam softly, “and for that I am deeply grateful.”

  Ruon seemed satisfied, and he turned his gaze back to the young queen. “Go back to your duties, L’iam. She will awake with the dawn.”

  L’iam hated leaving her side, but he knew that there was nothing he could do. He nodded reluctantly, resolving to be the first face that she saw when she opened her eyes. “I will be back just before dawn, then.”

  “Yes, you will,” stated Ruon, as if it were already a fact.

  L’iam cast one last lingering gaze on his beloved wife and then walked out of the triage tent, returning to the ghastly business of directing a war.

  ***

  Night had fallen on the camp.

  There were only brief periods of time when the Shimat and their mercenaries returned to their own camp to rest. The Seharans and L’avan had moved their tents closer to the battlefield, away from the fortified camp where the Healers and the highest leaders remained. That allowed the soldiers to get as much sleep as possible before the fighting began again.

  The lack of soldiers made the fortified camp seem strangely deserted. The Healers quietly went about their duties, but there was little other movement.

  Even if the sentries had known where to look, they would not have seen the black-clothed figure slinking through the shadows.

  The figure wore the uniform of a Shimat assassin, with one vital difference. Pinned to the crown of his hooded head was a thin circlet made from reddish metal. It was a circlet—so the Shimat had been told—that made the wearer practically invisible.

  Even with such a talisman at his disposal, the Shimat moved carefully. He ran in a crouch, keeping to the perimeter of the camp.

  It wasn’t long before he reached his destination.

  The large tent was made from a sturdy blue fabric, making it stand out from the brown of the other tents. The Shimat approached without making a sound, listening carefully to the voices inside.

  “…think I will go stay by Adesina tonight. She may not wake until morning, but it will comfort me to be by her,” said the voice of a young man.

  The voice of a woman replied. “Ruon seemed very adamant that I leave, so he may send you away as well. Ravi was arguing with him when I left, and I do not know if he was successful.”

  “She is my wife,” said the first voice. “Ruon does not have the right to keep me away.”

  “If you are able to convince him,” said a third voice, “I would like to join you. I may not have the chance to see her before I return to the battlefield.”

  The Shimat frowned at this information. The primary object of his mission required him to locate the L’avan queen. It would take him time to do so, if she was not in the command tent.

  After a moment of consideration, the Shimat determined that this change of plans was for the best. Based on what he had learned about the current occupants of the tent, he could complete the second part of his mission. In fact, it would probably work out better to complete the second task before finding the queen.

  The Shimat drew a pair of long knives from his belt and prepared himself.

  ***

  “If you are able to convince him,” said Me’shan, who was sitting near the back of the command tent, “I would like to join you. I may not have the chance to see her before I return to the battlefield.”

  “Of course,” L’iam responded.

  “I wish both of you luck,” said Sitara with a smile on her face. “For now, I must also bid you goodnight. I can sense that Riel needs me, and I should not keep her waiting. She has had a trying day.”

  L’iam returned her well wishes and watched as the Serraf strolled out of the tent. Then he stood up and stretched. His muscles were stiff from standing at the table of maps for so long.

  “Well, I think it is safe for us to leave, too. There should not be any more reports until morning. I will visit some of the wounded soldiers on my way to see Adesina. Would you like to join me for that?”

  Me’shan didn’t answer. He was staring at the tent opening with a puzzled expression.

  “What is it?” asked L’iam.

  His father-in-law continued to frown. “I thought I saw something…”

  L’iam felt his spine tingle in warning and his vyala flared to life out of instinct. His vision became tinted with a pale green light, and he suddenly saw a figure in the tent that had been invisible to him before.

  A figure posed to strike at Me’shan.

  L’iam gave an inarticulate cry and lashed out with his vyala. His reaction had been to drain the energy of the attacker, rendering him unconscious. However, when the beam of vyala reached the masked man, it bent around him and left him untouched.

  Me’shan was unable to see the attacker, but he knew enough from L’iam’s reaction to surmise what was happening. He ducked low to the ground and moved from where he was sitting, trying to get out of harm’s way.

  The Shimat—L’iam recognized the uniform—was undeterred by the sudden movement of his target. He simply shifted his footing and followed through with the downward slash of his long knife.

  L’iam leapt forward to tackle the man. The young king was currently unarmed, but he had to do something. He tried once more to use his vyala on the assassin, but it bent around him as before.

  L’iam grabbed at the attacker’s head in an attempt to limit the man’s movements, but all he succeeded in doing was wrenching free a thin meta
l circlet that was pinned to the hood of the Shimat.

  The assassin suddenly became visible without the need for L’iam’s enhanced vision.

  In a brief moment of distraction, the tent flap was pushed aside and a dark young man walked in.

  “Your Majesty, I…”

  L’iam made another grab for the Shimat’s knife. “Savir, watch out!”

  The Henka warrior took in the situation with a glance, and he immediately took a defensive stance. He drew the dagger that was always at his waist and rushed forward.

  The Shimat had a thin blade tucked between his fingers, and it became exposed when he balled his hand into a fist. He punched L’iam in the side, and the blade pierced L’iam’s skin. The L’avan king stumbled with a cry of pain. Then the Shimat whipped around to meet Savir’s attack.

  Savir was a warrior of the desert. He had been raised to survive, no matter the situation. L’iam watched as the young man boldly slashed at the Shimat with his dagger, causing the assassin to take a step backward in surprise.

  Savir pressed his advantage. He gave a bloodcurdling yell as he attacked, not giving the Shimat the opportunity to do anything but defend himself.

  The Henka was fast—much faster than anyone L’iam had ever met. The Shimat was clearly unprepared to meet such a formidable foe. Even so, it only took a moment for the Shimat to adjust to his new opponent.

  The blades of the two warriors flashed back and forth so quickly that L’iam had a hard time following them. The young king found himself almost hypnotized by the movement and shook his head to jog himself back to reality.

  He needed to help Savir.

  The Henka warrior was very skilled, but the Shimat had both skill and experience. The fight would not remain balanced for long.

  L’iam looked at the circlet in his hand and frowned. When he had pulled it from the Shimat’s head, the assassin had become visible. Was it also the reason his vyala had not been able to touch him?

  L’iam tried one more time to drain the energy of the Shimat attacker. This time it did not bend around him, but it did not render him unconscious either. L’iam could tell that his attack was only a shadow of what it should have been, and he could not understand why.